


silver like your sins

by fictitiousregrets



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, The Alloy of Law - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: 30 day challenge, Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictitiousregrets/pseuds/fictitiousregrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filling of a 30 day challenge in a chapter-by-chapter fic format.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hand to heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Few notes before you venture off into the mad world that is Marasi and Wayne's strangely budding probably-not-ever-going-to-be-canon relationship!
> 
> This is a 30 day challenge which I am choosing to fill in a chapter fic format, BUT!!!
> 
> Not all of these fics will ACTUALLY be set on Scadrial. Surprise! This would be because some of the prompts are inherently not compatible with the cosmere, mainly because there are technologies referenced that don't exist in the cosmere.
> 
> As I write the fics, I'll add any trigger warnings/archive warnings/increases in rating that are needed. Happy trails!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been an awfully long time since they've talked like they did that once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "holding hands."

They’re helping Wax out with something he needed, and it’s not like they had anything better to do anyway. Besides, Wayne always comes when Wax needs him—s’what friends are for, right?  
  
    Of course, Wayne knows why Marasi still comes by. Even though Wax went and married her half-sister, she can’t let him go. It’s downright odd, Wayne thinks, because she really doesn’t feel like the kind of person who wouldn’t let things go.  
  
    He isn’t complaining, though, because they’ve been working together for so long that he trusts her now, with his life. It’s really hard to find a good, trustworthy person to work with these days, and after what happened with Miles, wasn’t like anyone was going to be particularly keen on working with lawkeepers from the Roughs, even if they were only formerly from the Roughs.  
  
    Marasi teases Wax the entire time about Steris finding out—she’s really clever, apparently, and will know what he was doing, to which Wax replies wryly that he knows and Steris doesn’t care as long as the general populace doesn’t know.  
  
    Wayne doesn’t know how the man is married and sane. He didn’t think the two worked well together.  
  
    He’s mainly surprised when Marasi doesn’t glance almost longingly at Wax when they have to split up. It’s been an unspoken rule for a while now that Marasi and Wayne will go and examine something while Wax goes off on his own. No heart-to-hearts have been had since the first, regrettably, but it’s been Marasi’s turn for a long time.  
  
    They’re walking down a hallway with a leaky ceiling when Marasi’s hand slips into his. He nearly recoils before he looks over at her and she’s got her eyes straight ahead, like she’s forcing it, and her cheeks are red. He doesn’t have the heart to say anything because she looks like she wants to die but will do it happily.  
  
    And it hits Wayne like an explosion just as he tries to minimize the damage: this is her heart-to-heart, hand in hand.  
  
    It’s finally his turn.


	2. second position

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddling is hard. So hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "cuddling somewhere."
> 
> It's hard to find a comfortable position when your significant bother is so nicely built.

Her face is red, and he loves it. He’s positively gleeful about it, mainly because they aren’t doing anything distasteful—it’s just cuddling. They’re sitting in one armchair with space dwindling as Marasi tries to get comfortable, but it’s like she’s a small child in a glass cage and she just keeps moving around.  
  
    “Marasi,” he says, but she can see that he’s grinning. She huffs a sigh of defeat and just slumps against him, head on his shoulder.  
  
    “I give up,” she says, sounding tired. “I give up on trying to find a comfortable position.” Wayne cheerfully puts his arms around her and turns his head to kiss her forehead. She colors further almost immediately.  
  
    One day, that blush will be the death of him. Today, however, is not that day. For all that she’s an excellent prosecutor, complete poise and grace in the courtroom, Marasi can be so very awkward in her personal life.  
  
    It’s one of the things Wayne so enjoys about her. A complete professional in a courtroom; utter shite at actual poise in reality. She couldn’t be making him look bad all the time. That was against everything Harmony really stood for.  
  
    She realizes, somewhere between giving up and falling asleep, that this position is really very comfortable, and she has quite a nice angle to brush kisses onto his neck. The blush doesn’t fade until she’s gone, and then Wayne decides that it would be very gentlemanly indeed to carry her to her bed.  
  
    Also, his entire shoulder was falling asleep, so it’s a good idea in general.


	3. said the small dinosaur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super Mario Kart is always serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "gaming or watching a movie."

Wayne hands Marasi a wheel. More specifically: a detached, childish looking driver’s wheel. She quirks an eyebrow at him from her very comfortable spot on her beanbag chair as she’s watching Dateline.  
  
    He pulls his own beanbag chair up and then starts pressing buttons, switching the television to its A/V channel. Marasi makes a noise of protest, but Wayne holds a finger up behind him, reaching behind the TV to plug the Wii in.  
  
    Marasi tries not to stare too much. He hands her a remote, which she takes and fits into the childish looking driver’s wheel as he grins at the TV, going through all the motions and putting the CD in.  
  
    When he turns back, Marasi’s got a wicked grin on her face as well. “You know I’m going to beat you, right?”  
  
    “Yeah, yeah, mate. We’ll see.” Wayne plops down onto his beanbag chair and then looks at her. “Versus?”  
  
    “Versus,” Marasi confirms.

❀ ❀ ❀

  
  
They’re both leaning in, making mirroring motions as their Mario characters—Yoshi for Wayne, Daisy for Marasi—weave around banana peels and bombs.  
  
    Marasi swears as Wayne drops a banana peel right when her kart is behind him. “You—! Oh, that’s _low_!” She nudges his arm away with her elbow, sticking her tongue a little bit out of her mouth, touching the corner in strict concentration, the kind that only happens when you’re playing a video game and really want to win.  
  
    “Oi, OI! Stop that, you’re cheating!” Wayne laughs and starts nudging her back.  
  
    “You started it with the banana peel, you don’t get to complain!” Marasi runs into an item box and shouts happily because she got a spiny shell, and Wayne pales.  
  
    “You wouldn’t.”

    Marasi just grins and presses A, and a spiny shell flies right into Wayne’s kart, exploding just before he’s about to go over the finish line. Marasi cruises past and wins the game, as Wayne pouts next to her.  
  
    “That wasn’t fair.” He crosses his arms over his chest, pouting sullenly when Marasi stretches over to kiss his cheek and then sits back.  
  
    “You know the saying.”  
  
    Wayne gives her a look. “Best two out of three?”  
  
    “It isn’t going to change anything, but if you insist on getting your ass kicked again, be my guest.” Marasi grins and Wayne starts a new game.


	4. just sweep me off my feet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "on a date."
> 
> Chapter title from Passenger Seat by The Summer Set.

He shows up at her flat and looks better-dressed than he usually does. His hair actually looks combed and he’s got a pocket square, of all things. His hair still curls at the nape of his neck, though, and he looks like he had a hell of a time trying to wrangle a necktie around his collar. Marasi is, as usual, dressed beautifully. Her dress is a lovely rose color with a princess bodice and some lace spilling from the cuffs and collar, and her hair is gathered up into something resembling a bun at the top of her head.  
  
    She smiles when she sees him. “You’re early.”  
  
    “I am?” Wayne looks confused. “Sorry, mate. Should I just—”  
  
    “No, no. It’s quite alright.” Marasi makes a gesture for him to come in. “Make yourself comfortable, I just have a few things that need to be fixed before we go.”  
  
    She goes and Wayne sits a bit uncomfortably in her parlor. He gets up a few seconds after sitting down and looks around at some of the things she keeps around. Books, mostly, but there are one or two gray photographs sitting around. One is of her as a small child, looking solemn with dark shoulder-length hair let loose. She had bangs, but her eyes were just as wide and innocent-looking as they are now. The other photo is of a small swaddled baby in a beautiful woman’s arms. She’s dressed plainly, but there’s a resemblance to Marasi that tells Wayne that this woman is her mother.  
  
    He doesn’t really know much about her, does he? The knowledge makes his mouth twist a little, and he looks away from the photos, unsure of how much Marasi would want him snooping around her flat. She did say to make himself comfortable. Thankfully, at that moment, Marasi comes sweeping out of a room and smiles at him, eyes sparkling.  
  
    “Shall we?”  
  
    Her smile is contagious, and Wayne finds himself grinning in response. “Yeah.”

❀ ❀ ❀

They don’t make a lot of money—not with Marasi only in assistant positions and claiming independence from her family, and Wayne still sending half of what he makes to the family of the man he once killed so long ago—so Wayne brings a blanket and a bottle of wine he traded an excellent hat for, and Marasi brings two portions of some kind of Terris-inspired food and two stemmed glasses that she wrapped in cloth, and they sit down in Dampmere Park, overlooking the 4th/5th canal.  
  
    It’s a nice enough day. There are a few clouds, but nothing to really dampen the mood. Wayne doesn’t offer her his arm, but she understands and doesn’t expect anything. All she really wants is his company, which is pretty excellent.  
  
    He spreads out the blanket at an optimal place for them to watch the sunset when it’s time, and they sit, unpacking things.  
  
    They’re silent for a little while, Marasi slowly swirling wine around in her glass, not touching the part that holds the wine—her fingers are only wrapped around the stem. Wayne, on the other hand, holds his glass like a regular cup, ignoring the stem entirely. When Marasi glances at him, she sees how he holds the glass and smiles.  
  
    Wayne does things his own way, and she likes that. It’s evident after a while that they have no idea what to talk about. He knows nothing about law or anything she’s studying, and she really doesn’t know where to start with him.  
  
    “How’s that prosecution business you’re doing?” Wayne asks, looking at the horizon with the strangest expression on his face.  
  
    Marasi bursts into laughter. “Wayne, you look like you’re constipated.”  
  
    He grimaces. “Alright, mate, I was just tryin’ to be all polite and such.”  
  
    “It’s fine. We’re currently filing charges against the outlaw you brought in last week. Robbery, murder—first-degree will be harder to prove than second, but you know me.”  
  
    “Can’t resist a good first-degree murder case, you can’t.” Wayne hides his grin in his wine glass.  
  
    “Beyond a reasonable doubt’s my middle name,” Marasi says cheerfully.  
  
    Wayne ponders this. “Marasi Beyond A Reasonable Doubt Colms.” He gives a low whistle. “Must’ve been Ruination for whoever prepared your birth certificate.”  
  
    She nods, a smirk still gracing her face. “They had to get a _whole new sheet_ just to make sure it fit.” The sun casts an orange glow over the park, and Wayne glances sidelong at Marasi, who notices him looking at that moment. “What?”  
  
    “Nah, nothing. You’re just real pretty, that’s all.” He shrugs and takes a drink of wine rather than a sip. He prefers stronger alcohol, if he’s being honest, but you take what you can get. He can’t tell in this light, but he thinks she might be blushing.  
  
    “That’s sweet of you,” she says quietly. “And no crude comments about cloud areas this time? Marked improvement.”  
  
    Wayne grins. “Ah, you know me. I invented class and all of that malarkey.”  
  
    Marasi raises an eyebrow gracefully. “Malarkey?”  
  
    “Yeah. Gobbledegook? Hogwash? Piffle? Tommyrot?”  
  
    Marasi falls over sideways laughing, her wine spilling onto the grass and trickling down the hill. “What _are_ those?” she manages through her laughter, holding her stomach.  
  
    “I made ‘em up,” Wayne says proudly.  
  
    This sends Marasi into even brighter peals of laughter. “Just like you invented class,” she says, wiping her eyes as her laughter subsides. “Harmony, Wayne. I haven’t laughed so much in my life.”  
  
    He grins. “Guess I just got a special talent, then.”  
  
    “A regular funnyman, you are.”  
  
    “Think people’d pay me to be funny?” He offers her more wine, which she respectfully refuses.  
  
    Marasi grins. “You’d probably just end up insulting them, Wayne.”  
  
    He looks like he’s about to deny it when he just shuts his mouth and shrugs. Wayne probably wouldn’t even need to insult anyone when so many people do it to themselves. “I’d never insult you, mate,” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief.  
  
    “Oh, I believe you,” Marasi says wryly. They fall silent after that, watching the sun set. It takes Marasi’s breath away—she’s never really stopped to look at it before, has she? Not like this.  
  
    But Wayne isn’t looking at the horizon. He’s eyeing the food Marasi brought, and she can’t help another laugh as she hands him his portion and they have dinner, gossiping about Wax and Steris and making fun of them.  
  
    Wayne imitates Wax’s stiff manner in the suit he was wearing and puts a fake mustache acquired from Harmony only knows where on his face, putting on the accent of one of the stuffiest lords at the wedding dinner. Marasi almost spits out her dinner at that, but manages not to embarrass herself.  
  
    When it gets completely dark, Wayne walks her home after they pack everything up. He gives her the half-emptied bottle of wine and a quick kiss goodnight. She squeezes his hand and then departs.  
  
    He walks home with a smile on his face.


	5. the storm subsides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "kissing."

Harmony had betrayed them both. Neither of them had thought to bring an umbrella because it had seemed like such a beautiful day earlier, and the sky had suddenly decided in the afternoon that it would form dense, heavy grey clouds.  
  
    The rain _pours_ , and Marasi shivers, drenched in layers of skirts as Wayne squints up at the sky, trying to keep them both covered with his duster. It doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing. They try ducking under wherever they can manage, but it isn’t any use, so they simply start running to Marasi’s flat, their hands interlaced.  
  
    When Marasi nearly trips over a slightly uprooted cobblestone, Wayne stops for her and decides it’d be easier to pick her up, throwing her over his shoulder.  
  
    “A little warning might’ve been nice!” she shouts over the pouring rain.  
  
    He knows better than to say anything, instead holding the duster over his head and Marasi as best he can, getting them through the rain. They finally get indoors, both shivering and Marasi coughing shallowly.  
  
    Now is one of the times Marasi wishes her fireplace actually worked. Then she remembers that Wayne has trouble cooking—imagine if he actually intended to start a fire? She shudders a little.  
  
    “I’ll bring you that spare set of clothes you left here,” she says quietly, going off to her room and doing exactly that. Wayne tips his drenched hat at her, and they change in separate rooms. Marasi comes back, toweling her hair dry.   
  
    Wayne’s hair is wet, too—the water actually went through his hat, which is off drying on the little line that Marasi has hung in her bathroom. All of their clothes are dripping onto the tiled floor, but Marasi couldn’t care less. She flops down next to Wayne, who tilts his head towards her; she laughs a little and towels his hair off.  
  
    “You look ridiculous,” she laughs. Sure enough, Wayne’s hair has expanded and he does, in fact, look absolutely ridiculous. He pouts at her and she smiles at him, putting the towel aside.  
  
    Wayne inches a lot closer to her and pulls the throw from behind them over their shoulders. Afterwards, no one’s really sure who initiated it, but they looked at each other in the dim light with thunder booming outside and the rain pouring down, and their lips touched, their eyes closed, and their fingers were clutching cloth as the storm began to subside.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
